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Subject: {ASSM} SMELLING LOU
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<1st attachment, "Joe 1.txt" begin>
{ASSM}
SMELLING LOU
(MF Cheat)
Disclaimer
Not to be read:
by anyone under the age of 18
or if it violates the standards or laws of your
community:
or if adult erotica offends you.
Not to be posted on any site, or changed, added
to or used in any way without author's
permission.
Smelling Lou
I'm very much a conventional person, except for
the writing. I can't suppose one would think
that telling lies to tell the truth is
ordinary, even if you do make it plain, up
front, that your telling lies. So, I try to
keep all that business secret. I travel under
the guise of a middle-aged high school speech
teacher, and that's how my friends know me.
My real life, however, is taking place right
now, pecking and picking at the egg of a story,
then watching the ugly moist-matted, chick
emerge. Then trying to clean it, fluff it,
feed it, house it and watch it grow. When it
has reached full strength, I send it off to the
slaughterhouse and it ends up in a supermarket,
hopefully for someone's enjoyment. I am well
aware that my metaphor suggests the laying of
eggs, and I must confess that I have clucked
over a few.
Because I am conventional, my wife, the mall
surveyor, and I have conventional friends. Les
is a retired mechanic, and his wife, Lou, is a
semi-retired bookseller, though she is ten
years younger than Les. She worked at a well-
known chain, and had actually run the store,
until she backed away from it three years ago.
Lou now enjoys a combination of part-time work
and part-time retirement with Les.
Les won't let anybody touch my cars but him.
He is constantly interested in my little 89
Toyota Carolla, how it is running, if the oil
is clean, if the anti-freeze is adequate and if
the brakes are good. I'm fortunate to have
such a friend, for I have no concern for such
things, as necessary as they are, and no talent
to fix them if they go wrong. All I have to
give in return is my company, which he seems to
like, and my frequent pick-ups of the
restaurant tab.
One Wednesday night, Les and Lou and Carolee
and I and were together at the Big Boy for a
sandwich supper. "Les," I said, "My right
wheel is making a funny noise."
Les, who has bright red hair, thick glasses,
and is mostly deaf, watched my lips carefully.
"Real funny toys?" Les was like a stump in a
crowded restaurant.
I spoke more distinctly and slightly louder as
Lou and Carolee giggled at his handicap. " My
car--funny noise!" I articulated.
"Oh! Well, bring it by tomorrow and we'll check
it out. I need to run a test on your coolant
anyway."
Les and I talked on about the vagaries of old
cars and Lou and Carolee pursued the subject of
wallpaper. Lou had done her own house and
several others as well. She has flair for that
sort of thing, interior decorating,
landscaping, flower growing, and flower
arrangement. There are not many times I have
entered her house when I did not smell a
bouquet flowers of her grown from her own labor
and love. Now that she had retired from the
bookstore, she could indulge such hobbies.
Lou's many interests are testimonies to her
high energy level. She always has something
doing, and I am a bit pleased that she is Les's
wife and not mine. Once she gets a notion to
do a thing, she not only does it, but follows
it through to the end. Aside from her time at
the bookstore, she sells Avon, which is in fact
more a hobby than a job. Even now, over my
club sandwich, I could smell her perfume
wafting across the table. "Lou, is that a new
Avon fragrance? I don't think I've noticed
that one before," I said.
Lou smiled sheepishly, "No, that's not Avon. I
cheat from time to time," she grinned.
"As a matter of fact, she cheats a lot, you
should see her collection of perfumes!" Carolee
said.
"Yes, Avon would consider me an adulteress, I
have this insatiable lust for other
fragrances," Lou said. Of course, Avon knows
nothing about my affairs!" She rolled her eyes
and winked at Carolee, and they both melted in
a paroxysm of female humor.
It seemed that Carolee and I never lacked for
conversation with this couple. It was a great
friendship, perhaps too exclusionary. We four
had been criticized for our cliquishness, "If
Lou sneezes, Carolee says, `Excuse me.'" The
fairness of this censure was underlined by the
fact that we made another date for Friday
night, for steak at the Rhodes House.
I relished my freedom during the summer, and I
would have much preferred spending my day in
front of the computer, writing, but I needed to
get away from it, and I needed to take care of
my car. So at ten o'clock on Thursday morning,
I pulled into Les's driveway. He was waiting
in the doorway of his double garage, obviously
anxious to get his hands dirty on my car.
In a jiffy, Les had the front end of my car on
jack-stands and was pulling the right wheel. I
worked as his gofer, handing him wrenches,
holding the trouble-light, or whatever I could
do for him. Presently, he showed me the
ground-down brake pad, and sent me for new ones
to Crazy Al's Auto Parts store. I was back in
a half-hour, and handed him the new brake pads
and shoes. He was greasy up to his elbows. As
he set about his work, I said, "Les, I need to
use your bathroom, nature has suddenly reared
its ugly head."
"You know the way!" he said.
"Is Lou in there?" I asked, wondering if I
should knock on the door before entering.
"No, she's working, didn't you see her
convertible missing?" he said.
"No, I guess I'm not used to a three car
family," I teased, good-naturedly. Their
Cadillac and Ford pickup were parked in the
drive, the yellow Cavalier convertible was
missing. Lou herded it around Toledo like it
was Cleopatra's chariot and she was its proud
monarch.
I went through the garage entrance door into
their utility room, then into the kitchen, then
down the hallway to the bathroom. I closed the
door and started to unfasten my pants when I
noticed that there was no tissue. A single
half-ply hung from the cardboard roll.
So, I hitched up my pants and went in search
for the second bathroom. I entered their
bedroom and I saw the master bath door in the
far corner. Lou had evidently left in a hurry
that morning, because the bed spread was simply
pulled up and bunched unevenly over the
pillows. I passed a closet on my right and the
door was open. I caught sight of a floor full
of shoes in disarray. Among them were Lou's
panties and bra. I continued passed the closet
into the bathroom and shut the door. As I sat
there, I began to think of Lou's satiny
panties, and of Lou in a way I had never
thought of her before.
This was Lou and Les's second marriage. They
had hinted that their previous mates had been
great disappointments to them, but with their
children now grown, they had met, restructured
their lives, and were now into their fifteenth
year together, apparently happy. Lou was
twelve years younger than Les, with no apparent
ill effects. My opinion was that they would
remain happy as long as Lou got her way.
As I sat on the toilet, I involuntarily
pictured this 53-year-old lady, the wife of my
best friend, over there in the shower, standing
naked. Lou had the body of a woman her age.
However, she was not unattractive, even if she
were a bit on the plump side. She was in as
good condition as most, and better than many
women her age. I imagined how her breasts must
look, the hot water running down them onto her
rounded belly, over her ample buttocks, and
onto her-umm, I'd say, size 7 feet. I closed
my eyes and sought a mind- picture of her
soaping her dark pubic hair. I fantasized dark
even though her short hair was on the verge of
blonde, with a very attractive wedge cut. I
always enjoyed glimpsing her smooth neck
against the cut of her hair. I felt the
firmness between my legs and thought of the
panties on the closet floor.
I finished my business, and flushed, and washed
my hands. I found some room spray on the back
of the toilet tank and liberally sprayed the
room. I opened the door, and saw the tumbled
bed before me. A light floral print robe lay
in a heap on the bed. On the other side of the
bed was a chest of drawers. On top was an
array of small perfume bottles, her collection.
I turned left, past the open closet and looked
in.
I thought about my friend out there in the
garage, faithfully working on my car, and me in
here, staring at his wife's underwear,
wondering what force was compelling me to such
depravity. I entered the closet and reached
down and picked up the panties. A second pair
fell away from the pair I lifted. I opened the
first pair and looked at the crotch. I could
see nothing. They looked perfectly fresh. I
lifted them to my nose and smelled only a light
perfume that could have been laundry soap, or
it could have been a trace of Lou. I couldn't
say. Why had she discarded this pair? I
examined them closely and I was frankly
disappointed. Didn't this woman have
secretions? It was as if they had just come
out of the drawer. I looked for a telltale
stain, and there was nothing there. I felt of
the fabric, quite thick, heavier than my wife's
panties, as if there was an extra ply, but no
residual moistness.
I picked up the other pair and sniffed. It was
here that the musky sharp smell cut into my
senses. I asked myself, is it urine? If it
is, it is only faintly urine. I smelled again.
No, I was smelling my friend's wife who had
left this trace of her most intimate self on
these satiny underclothes. I held them in both
hands and my face was down in the fabric
breathing deeply, imaging wildly.
"What does it smell like, Joe?" Lou said
quietly.
My heart plummeted as I realized I had been
found out. I can't describe how humiliated and
utterly abashed I was. I felt the heat build
around my eyes and cheeks, and my knees started
trembling.
"Lou. I'm sorry Lou. Oh God, I'm so sorry!
I feel like a perverted fourteen-year-old
adolescent."
"You look more like a perverted fifty-year-old
bald man," she said. "I can't believe what I
just witnessed. Would you please put my
panties down?"
I dropped them to the floor.
"Joe," she said in a low, spitting voice, "Your
friend, your best friend Les, is outside
working on your car. He's on his back under
your greasy car while you've got your nose in
my dirty panties! God, Joe, how twisted can
you get, not to mention how disloyal to your
friend? Humph! Some friend."
Lou had always had about her face, her mouth
especially, a firm, almost hard texture. It
was as if she were looking down on the world,
inspecting and judging each failure. She even
intimidated Carolee at times. Right now, she
looked as if she could bite with her lips.
My voice was trembling. "Lou, please don't
mention this to Carolee. Oh God, Lou, this is
so humiliating. I feel.I feel..."
"You'd think you'd know better, Joe. What
should I do? Tell me Joe, how should I handle
this?"
She shook her head in disappointment. I knew
the question was rhetorical, she didn't want an
answer from me. She probably already knew what
she was going to do, but she said, "I don't
know what to do! This would hurt Carolee,
terribly. She doesn't deserve to be humiliated
and I have no reason to do it to her. Les
loves you like a brother. So did I, as for as
that goes." She shook her head again and sat
down on the edge of the bed. "As far as I can
tell right now, there's only one person that
deserves the shame, and that's you. I can
tell you this, I don't want you to even look at
me anymore! If you were anybody else but
Carolee's husband, I would put the word out on
you all over town. You keep your distance from
me, you hear?
"Yes," my voice was choked and hardly audible.
"Look, get through with your car, go home, and
leave us alone, I don't know how this is going
to work out. I have to think this over. God
Joe! What a.What a pig! Get out of here, will
you?"
I turned and walked out, feeling lower than the
pile carpet in her bedroom. Les finished with
the brakes in fifteen minutes and said, "Well,
there you are, old buddy, good as new!"
"I don't know how to thank you my friend," I
said, trying to be jovial. "You won't take
money, so I guess I'll have to buy you a
steak!"
"You'll have to buy Lou one too, after all,
those were the front and back brakes," he
joked.
"Done!" I said, forcing the buoyancy, "The
Rhodes House is on me!" There would be no
Rhodes House if Lou shared the sordid secret
with Les.
I went home feeling very awkward, and very odd.
I knew the steak dinner was going to be a
strain if it wasn't cancelled. I wondered
about canceling it myself, but realized that
would open up all sorts of questions I wasn't
prepared to answer.
That night at 9:00 Carolee answered the phone.
I overheard a bit of banter and, some giggles
and so I presumed it was Lou. Then I heard
Carolee say, "Oh sure, he won't mind. That's
the advantage that I have, schoolteachers are
home in the summer to do odd jobs. I'll let him
know."
Carole hung up the phone and called, "Joe!"
"Yes?"
"Don't plan anything in the morning, Lou says
she's got some heavy lifting to do, and she
needs your help. I told her you'd be glad to
give her a hand."
"What about Les?"
"Les had to run up to Michigan tonight to see
his mother. He'll be back by steak time," she
said.
I was worried about going over there. I had
much preferred her first requirement, "Keep
your distance from me." The next morning, I
kissed Carolee bye as she left for her job.
She was one of those women who stood in the
mall with a clipboard and snagged people for
market surveys. I put it off for a half-hour,
then feeling like I was going to meet the
executioner, I dressed in old jeans and a
short-sleeved denim shirt, and drove over to
Lou's.
She opened the door stood looking at me, a hand
on one hip. "Hello little boy," she said,
smirking. "I know how strong your sense of
smell is, how strong are your muscles?".
"I guess they're OK," I said, my head down.
Strangely, Lou was dressed in a knee length
black dress, dark stockings and black high
heeled pumps. She looked as if she were going
dancing. The dress strained a bit around her
hips, and her knees, along with her ankles,
were just a tiny bit large.
"OK," she said, "first task is to move the
couch over to the other side of the room," I
went to one side of the couch, and waited for
her to station herself at the other end. She
didn't move.
"Come on boy, get busy," she said.
I struggled with the couch, lifting one end,
moving forward a few feet, then going to the
other end and doing the same. Before it was
over, I had moved all of the furniture around,
often pausing to stand while she made a show of
taking her time to judging the result, then she
would demand another arrangement. My sweat was
keeping pace with my growing hatred of this
woman. Truly, she was a bitch.
Finally, I said, "Look Lou, I have to get some
work done at home."
"Oh you do, do you?" she said lifting her voice
on the first "do." Her fists were doubled and
on her hips, her weight on one leg. "I just
have one more job for you, come on back to the
bathroom," she said, and she pranced back
toward the bedroom as I followed. I watched
the exaggerated movement of her hips as she
strutted, and wondered what it was all about.
The bathroom was a mess. Dirty underwear, his
and hers, were simply thrown into the floor.
Towels and wash cloths were dumped in the base
of the shower. The toilet seemed extra dirty,
as if she had poured filthy mop-water into it,
and splashed it all over. Flecks of dirt
soiled the rim and tracks of dirty water traced
along the base and onto the floor. "Clean it
up, boy, I'll bring you a mop and bucket." She
turned to leave, then paused sneering, "And
Joe-Boy, don't sniff the underwear."
I worked in total silence, trying to come up
with a way I might settle this with her, and
get on with my life. She was obviously bent on
making me miserable. After I was finished, she
came in and sniffed the air and inspected the
porcelain surfaces. "OK, young man, you can go
now. I am looking forward to that steak
tonight. You be good, and I may not work you
so hard next time."
I drove home in a rage, but still frustrated. I
had foolishly put myself at a disadvantage and
made myself a slave. If I didn't comply with
Lou's every whim, then she would spill the
beans. It was a kind of blackmail. I wondered
how Les survived with a woman like this. I
began to weigh my humiliation against the
friendship I had for Les, and, of course,
Carolee's relationship with Lou. Did I really
want Carolee to have a friend like Lou? Would
such an incident put my marriage in jeopardy?
One thing for sure, Lou was counting on my
fear.
At 6:30 on Friday evening, Carolee and I sat
down in the booth at the Rhodes House across
from Lou. She smiled, avoiding my eyes, but
saying, "Hi, Carolee, Hi Joe!"
"Where's Les? Carolee asked.
"He called, and he's going to be a little late.
He didn't get away from Detroit till late. He
said go ahead and order for him, he'll be here
soon.
"OK," said Carolee, but I have to go to the
little girls' room. I'll be back in a bit.
She got up and left me sitting across from the
woman who evidently regarded me as the lowest
slug on the earth.
"I have a question for you Joe," she said, her
eye burning into me.
"Lou, please don't, I'm sorry. I can't stand
this sort of thing. Please don't make me feel
any lower than I already do.
"Joe, just tell me why you did it?" There was
a different tone to her voice. Was it slightly
more gentle?
I shook my head. "Lou, why does any man do
such a thing? Lust, I guess. I saw those
things laying in your closet and I just had to
pick them up." My head was down.
"Pick what up?" she said. She was going to
make me say it.
I swallowed, kept my head down, and said, "You
know, Lou, your panties."
"Sounds strange doesn't it. You, Joe, talking
about my panties. Can you imagine Carolee and
Les talking about her panties with each other?"
After this surprising statement, I ventured a
glance at her face. Her lips wore a slight
smile. "No, I guess not, I said."
"Tell me Joe, what is there about the smell
that you like? Do you sniff your wife's
panties?
I was still uncertain as to why she was toying
with me this way. I gave her another quick
look, and allowed myself a slight grin of my
own. "Well, yes I have."
"Did they smell like mine?" she asked. It was
almost as if she were struggling with her lips
to keep from smiling at the novelty of such a
conversation.
"No, yours are different." I said truthfully.
"How?"
I tried to hold her gaze this time, but I
couldn't, "Lou, how can I answer that? Smell
is like taste. It's hard to describe different
tastes." God, why did I bring up the subject
of taste? I shook my head and looked down
again.
"Surely, if you've smelled one woman, you know
what another one smells like," she said.
I hardly knew what to say. She obviously was
in control She could make my life total misery
with just a word. I felt like I had to answer.
"Lou, I'm sorry, but look at it this way, "A
filet minion and a T-bone both taste like
steak, but they taste different, right?"
A smirk continued to play at Lou's tight lips.
She started to speak, but then Les showed up,
his usual jovial self, saying, "I'm going to
soak you for the biggest T-bone on the menu,
old buddy!"
"And I'm going to soak him for a filet minion,"
Lou said. "I hear the taste is somewhat
different." Her eyes flashed as she stared at
me. I looked down.
When the steaks did finally come, Lou made a
show of having a bite of Lou's T-bone, and
saying, "Well, the filet minion does taste a
bit different! I had never thought about it
before."
On Saturday, Carolee had to work again at the
mall. As she was leaving, she leaned over and
kissed me on my bald head. "Honey, would you
straighten up the bedroom and bathroom for me?
I just don't have time today."
"Sure Baby, no problem, I croaked, then went
back to sleep.
I was awakened at 10:00 AM by the phone.
"Hello?" I said in a scratchy voice.
"You're not up yet?" Lou's voice asked.
"I am now," I said. "I had a late night on the
computer."
Carolee is working, isn't she?" she asked.
"Yes, she'll be at the mall most of the day."
"I'll be over there in fifteen minutes," Lou
said. It was not a request. "I have to drop
off something."
This was all very mysterious. Obviously she
had been turning the screws on me yesterday,
and I supposed it would be the same today.
"OK, see you when you get here," I said,
resigned. What else could I say?
I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and
shaved, but the doorbell rang before I could
get dressed. I put on my bathrobe and answered
the door.
"Hello, Joe," she said, "Here are some Avon
samples. Tell Carolee it's a gift from yours
truly." I opened the door and she came in,
handed me the samples, and seated herself on
the couch. "I have been thinking about what
you did last Thursday."
"Look Lou, I'm sorry." I sat on the recliner,
on the end of the seat. "I don't know how else
to say it, or how many times I have to
apologize. What do you want from me, Lou? Is
there ever going to be a time when you release
me from this?" I asked.
As if I had not spoken, she said, "And I've
been thinking about what you said last night.
Tell me, where does Carolee put her dirty
clothes?" she asked.
I sat still, puzzled. "I.ah.She puts them in a
hamper in the bathroom."
"Go see if she has a pair of panties in the
hamper," Lou ordered.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Do it, Joe," the edge of her mouth was hard.
I got up from the chair and walked the long
walk down the hallway then made the turn to the
right, and on to our large bedroom at the end.
I entered our bathroom, also very large, and
opened the hamper. At the bottom was a pile of
clothes, a wadded robe above them, a bra and a
pair of panties on top of that. I picked them
up and turned to go back to the living room.
Lou was standing in our bedroom, looking at me.
She had that flinty look about her mouth with
the smile just barely cracking its edges.
There was an upholstered chair by the bed and
she walked to it and sat. "Joe, take a whiff
of Carolee's panties," she ordered.
I hesitated just a moment, looking at her.
Then I lifted Carolee's panties to my nose and
inhaled.
"You like that Joe?" she asked.
I nodded my head slightly and said, very low,
"Yes."
"OK, smell of these," and she tossed something
to me. It was, of course, her panties. When I
caught them, I sensed a warmth about them,
unlike Carolee's from the hamper. Obviously,
she had taken them off just a few moments
before I had come out.
I lifted Lou's panties to my nose and inhaled.
"They're the same, aren't they?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"They're different?"
"Yes," I said.
"You think you could tell the difference if you
didn't know which was which?"
"Yes, I think so," I said, beginning to realize
that something else was at work other than
Lou's outrage.
She crossed her legs. She was wearing a kakhi
skirt and a light blue blouse. Her skirt rode
up just above her knees, she wore no stockings
and her feet were in penny loafers.
"Let me have both pair," she said.
I held out both my hands to her and she took
the panties in her own two hands.
"OK," she said, uncrossing her legs and keeping
the knees primly together, "Kneel down in front
of me, and put your hands behind your back."
I did.
"Now shut your eyes."
I did.
"Ok, this is pair number one, smell it?"
I sensed Carolee's smell instantly. "That's."
"Shut up, Joe. Now smell pair number two?"
I smelled, and realized it was exactly the same
sensation.
"Which one did you like the best?" said Lou,
surprising me.
"I'm afraid I can't tell," I said.
"Oh? Really? I thought you were the expert on
dirty panties, Joe," she said sarcastically.
I didn't respond, but I opened my eyes.
"Nobody told you t open your eyes."
I closed them.
OK, we'll try again," and I felt the smooth
material in my face, "That's number one," she
said.
I had no doubt it was Lou's panties.
"And number two." Again the sharp musk invaded
my nostrils. It was the same ploy with
different panties.
"Well?" which do you like better?"
"I can't tell. I'm sorry Lou. I guess I was
wrong," I said, eyes still shut.
"I'll give you another chance," she said.
I felt the garment brush my face and breathed
in. It was Carolee.
"And number two," she said. It was Lou's
scent.
"Now, which one do you like the best?"
"Number two," I said.
This test went on for the next fifteen minutes,
with every possible combination and similar
question. I knew I was answering that Lou was
my favorite each time. It couldn't hurt. Then
she wanted me to tell her whose panties they
were, and she ceased asking me my favorite. By
now my penis was hardening. She kept
admonishing me to keep my eyes shut, so I had
no idea whether my robe was concealing me, or
revealing me, so I made no move to cover up.
One thing I knew, Lou knew that I could tell
the difference. Eventually, I became tired. I
rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands.
"I didn't say you could do that," Lou said.
I removed my hands and smiled. "No, you
didn't. But I think that's enough smelling of
panties for me," I said. "You found out what
you wanted to know, didn't you?"
Lou looked confused. She had not realized that
the balance of power had shifted, or at least
evened out. She was as compromised as I had
been.
"See if you can tell the difference," I said.
She sat with panties in each fist, still with a
dazed expression. Then her features softened
and she relaxed.
"I don't want to smell myself," she said.
"Well, smell Carolee then," I said.
She looked at her hands and then lifted
Carolee's panties to her nose and smelled. She
looked at me over her fist. "Gosh, it's sharp,"
she said.
"Yours is quite different. You need to
compare."
She looked down at her own panties. Then she
looked back at me. She slowly lifted them and
smelled.
At that point I moved my head close to her hand
and smelled too. "Umm, Lou. You smell
wonderful."
Her eyes grew round, afraid. I backed away.
She returned Carolee's panties to her nose and
breathed again.
"Do you like the smell?" I asked.
"Yes," she said uncertainly.
"Lou, you love perfume, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Lou? Did you know that the most expensive
perfumes have a base that comes from the glands
around the sexual organs of a civit?" I kept
my voice quiet and gentle.
"What's a civit?" she asked.
"It's a small fox like creature over in Africa.
They raise the tail and press around the sexual
organ and oil emerges. They collect it, and
sell it. They also get it from the musk deer
in Russia and China. They say it sells at a
higher price than gold."
I gently placed my hand on Lou's knee. It fell
away from her other knee slightly.
"You've smelled musk before, haven't you? In
your perfumes?"
"Yes." Her voice was husky.
"Well," I said, "it's was a raw musk smell that
I sensed on your panties. Did you notice it?"
She did what I hoped she would do. She brought
the panties to her nose and smelled."
"Yes, yes it's there," she said. Her voice was
almost a whisper.
I moved a hand to her other knee, just above
her knee and stroked it slowly, in a circle.
Her knees parted further.
"It's on Carolee's panties too," I said.
She smelled of the panties in her other hand.
"Ummm," she crooned.
"You know, Lou, the panties are only a hint of
your smell. The really beautiful fragrance
comes from the source itself." I put both my
palms on her inner knees and spread her legs.
They fell away freely. "Lou, can you slide
down just a little? I think the fragrance will
be fuller that way."
She pushed her tailbone toward the edge of the
hair and her skirt rode up sharply, revealing
her heavy thighs. A few blue vessels showed
through, some purple spider veins revealed
themselves. Carefully, I pushed back here
khaki skirt and her pubic mound came in view.
I was surprised to find that she had only wisps
of hair, and what she had was graying. The
flexible edge of an inner lip protruded
slightly through the crevice. It glistened
with moisture.
"May I come closer to you Lou, and sample your
fragrance?" I asked.
Lou nodded her head, her eyes were loosely
closed. I drew to within three inches of her
vagina and breathed deeply. I could hear her
breathe increase its tempo at the same time.
"Lou, would you open your vagina for me?"
She reached on either side of her labia and
spread open her lips and the sharp aroma filled
the air. A slow secretion of fluid insinuated
itself down the channel. The pinkness of the
soft tissue was shining, as if it had been
oiled.
"Oh Lou," I whispered, you are beautiful!" Her
normally hard mouth was relaxed and placid. A
slight smile, absent of sarcasm, and full of
pleasure, lay on her lips. I backed away and
stroking her thighs, keeping my touch light,
but careful not to tickle, her.
"Lou?"
"Humm?"
"I am going to come near you, but I don't want
to offend you. I will pause and then let you
pull me as close to yourself as you feel
comfortable with. Would that be all right with
you?"
"Umm-humm." Her eyes fluttered halfway open.
I placed my palms on the inside of her thighs
and spread her a little more, then I approached
within five inches of her pubis.
"OK Lou, press me toward you as close as want
me to come." I knew when I said the word
"press" that my breath broke on her wet vagina,
for she momentarily tensed a tiny bit. It felt
her hands cup the back of my head and she
gradually pulled me to her. I was so close I
could not focus, so I shut my eyes. I inhaled
rather loudly and groaned with pleasure.
Then I felt her wet warm softness on my lips
and nose as she pressed me home and cried out
her pleasure, "Oh! Damn, fuck!" she said, deep
in her throat. She bucked against my face. Oh!
Oh! Joe!" she cried, almost breathless.
I raised my eyes as I sucked her. Her own eyes
were flashing and her teeth were clenched in
pleasure. She jabbed her pubis at my face. I
opened my mouth and sucked all of her soft
flesh inside of it. Then I sifted it through
my teeth, feeling the rough texture of her
sparse hair as I did.
"Oh shit! Joe, I've never done this before! Oh
yes, it's so good!"
I had not touched her clitoris as yet, so I
trailed my tongue up the path from her opening
and felt it come under my tongue-tip. Lou
immediately orgasmed, and with her hands in
back of my head, swabbed my wet face around her
slick wet flesh, smothering my nose against it
as she did.
Then I felt my head being lifted, and I came up
with her hands and she began now kissing my
lips with her open mouth, moaning as she did.
Then she signed and collapsed back into her
chair.
I leaned back from my knees and eyed her. Her
head and shoulders were vertical, against the
chair back. Her hips were partially out over
the floor, and supported by her splayed feet.
She riveted me with her eyes. Lou looked
totally and utterly obscene, especially when
she began a sliding descent from the chair. I
gripped my waiting erection with a tight fist
and readied it for her slithering embrace. She
came down in one wonderful stroke, slick and
surprisingly cozy. Her shoulders and elbows
were now anchored to the chair edge. I was free
to maneuver on my knees, and her hips were at
liberty to lunge about with liberty as well. I
heard the smacking of her inner lips as they
inverted on the downstroke, and then popped
outward on the upstroke. I always love to come
to orgasm on my knees, for it puts my thigh
muscles in tiny spasms and I finish up
trembling with pleasure from my from my waist
down. It was in just such a way that I came
with Lou, who wrung and twisted herself on my
penis until she exploded within a millisecond
after me. I could not embrace and kiss her
without severing this connection, so I extended
the super-sensitive, but pleasurable, contact.
Then, I knew my frenzied penis could stand no
more. I pulled away, and let her slide her
bottom to the floor. Then I bent down and
kissed her deeply.
Afterward, I pulled her from the tender-heap
into which she had fallen, and her legs visibly
trembled as she stood. She pulled down her
skirt and then embraced me again. I ran my
hands over her clothed breasts, and noticed
that they were slightly larger than Carolee's
were.
She broke the kiss and looked into my eyes.
"Joe? Is that true, what you said about the
animals and the musk?"
"Sure it is, look it up! Uh-oh, I did miss
telling you something!" I said.
"What?" she asked.
"The musk is only taken from the males. Next
time you'll have to sniff my underwear."
"Or something else," she said, laughing, and
gripped my flaccid penis. "Joe, would you mind
if I took a shower in your bathroom?"
"No problem," I said, "but I want it spic and
span in there before you leave. I'll bring you
a mop and a bucket."
SHALL THIS BE THE END?
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